Monday, May 23, 2011

It takes a village.

When Michael and I started our life together, we knew that being close to our family was a priority. In my family's culture, it's not uncommon for Grandparents to actually live with their children, and help them raise their own. When I was younger, the 6 of us - My Mom & Dad, Grandma & Grandpa, my sister and I all lived together. Sardined in University Housing apartments, as my Dad attended college. The sound of the train running through the heart of town is still a memory I feel in every part of me. After we moved out, we moved to a tiny 2-bedroom home on Berry Street. The house is long gone - torn down years ago to make room for half a million dollar homes. But when I drive past that part of town, I always remember our little house.Set on a large plot of land, it backed up to the creek. We had a cherry tree, a fence covered in grape vines, and a huge garden. We also had two large white rabbits that kept me company, and a couple chickens and a rooster (before Grandpa ate it).

Our neighbor was Mister Powers. That's what our (barely English speaking) family called him. Dad was in school, submerged in the language. Mom was....not as great with hers :) Grandma and Grandpa only left the house to go with us on trips to the lake, picnics, and camping trips. So their English language never grew. And my sister and I were still speaking our first language - Farsi. In pre-school we started to learn our second language - English.I think about Mister Powers, an old farmer. In his plaid shirt, white hair, and glasses, walking with a cane. Every farmer and 80 year old man I see is Mister Powers, to me now. 25 years later, his memory is still a print on a portion of my mind. I wonder if it made him laugh to see us....odd and brown, in the middle of a town picking chicken eggs and backyard farming. Sometimes I think that's what he liked about us. And the fact that those words, the sound... the sound of his name, on our unfamiliar tongues....mister powers, were our first words.

Together, we lived in that house on Berry. A strong unit, where one of us fell short, the other stood tall. And there, I learned what a babysitter was. I learned that it really does take a village to raise a child, and our village was family.

When we decided to have children of our own, I knew that I wanted my own little village to raise this child. There are things only I can offer Elodie, as her Mother. But there is another world of opportunity, learning, and love she will receive from my decision to go back to work part-time. Every woman chooses what is best for her family, and that is a personal choice that no one is allowed to judge. I have never felt guilt over what I have decided to do for her, and us.

And on Thursday, I went back to work.

On my last day home with Elodie, I wished for peace. For leaving her, for my sanity. I wished for sleep, a calm baby, and learning to balance the new change that was about to wash over our family, like a changing tide.

Instead, Elodie woke up on the wrong side of the bed.

For three days and nights, the three days and nights before I went back to work, she was up all night, screaming during the day, and demanding to be held. It wasn't like the Elodie I really know in our quiet moments. Watching the birds fly over her, closing her eyes in the breeze. My baby finds peace in her heart, easily.

And she cried, and cried, and cried. And I cried. And begged. And nursed her and rocked her, wore her all day, sang her her favorite songs, showed her the new blooms in the garden. Still, she cried, and she didn't sleep. And I cried.

On my last day home, I took her to visit Grandma, and find my own peace in my heart.

She fed me hot tea, dried fruit & nuts, saffron rice&chicken...trying carefully to hide the chicken underneath the rice. Insisting it was good for my milk, insisting that I hated meat from the time I was a little girl. We laughed as we remembered Grandpa in his "babysitter" days.He watched me during the day, and one day, as he tried to feed me some of his meal - dried chunks of meat and bread, I demanded as much as a 3 year old really can - "so you're some kind of babysitter, now?" Then he taught me a lesson - my Grandpa, always one of my fist teachers of life. He said, "this comes from the chickens in the backyard." For years, I struggled with my relationship with eating meat. And even though Mom and Grandma are still pissed that he taught me a hard lesson of life so young, I was never angry at him. He was indeed, just teaching me life...and he wasn't such a bad baby sitter, after all.

25 years later, my Mom and Grandma still throw their voices in a high pitch, and repeat this, as we laugh and remember our tiny house on Berry Street. Mister Powers. The chickens.

The day before I went back to work, Grandpa split open a watermelon for us to share, as they told stories of life in Iran - watermelon and bread for dinner some nights. I watched Grandma with Elodie, amazed by a woman who reared babies in a time and place of little resource. Still showing her innate ability to calm a baby in no time flat, I have been photographing her doing this quite often. One day I will show Elodie and she will learn the story of Aubibi-Bozorg, Great-Grandmother.

Grandpa ate his lunch by the South window, where he always sits in the sun. Bits of dried meat, and bread. Twenty five years later, an 88-year-old man is still a creature of extreme habit.

The drapes danced in the late Spring breeze.

We looked at old photos, and found this one of my parents in Germany, right before they moved to the states in '78.

Grandma, and my Mom.

A photo my Dad took of my Mom, on one of their little dates to the Caspian Sea.

....and our house on Berry Street. It catches my breath in my chest, to see the orange drapes under that window. Only a child, I realize the photo I am holding is just the way I remembered it...always printed on a piece of my mind. Every day I would rush behind the curtain to find the eggs that Moghky-joon (darling chicken) had left for me.

And in that photo, I was in the lap of my second babysitter. My teacher. While Grandpa taught me about the parts of life that stung my skin with their reality, Grandma taught me to find love. "Chouk-Chouk, Chouk-Chouk," she called after the hens as she threw handfuls of rice and bread for them to eat.

She is holding Elodie in her lap, and somehow, she is fast asleep. For me, on my last day home before I went back to work, she cried. And cried. And cried. And I cried.Today, she is fast asleep on Grandma's lap as she tells me a story.

After my sister was born, they left Iran to come live in tiny University housing and become a village, so they could all raise that child. And when my Uncle needed them, they left everything they knew for a second time to become his village.In Nigeria, Africa, where my Uncle was living with his wife and two babies, they lived in a small house next to the jungle. Grandma still feels her own stings on her skin, telling me how terrified they were of where they lived. On the edge of a town surrounded by no one they knew or could communicate with, they were sandwiched between Nigeria, and the open jungle. She softens her mouth into a frown and lists the wild animals she would hear at night.

She tells me "Your Grandpa has always been a bad babysitter. One day, after our kids had gone to work, we were home with the babies and I was washing dishes. I asked him to watch them, and before I knew it, they had disappeared." She shoots him an angry glare, and he keeps eating his bread and dried bits of meat. She goes on."I found him sitting on the porch in the sun, drinking his tea. And they were gone. I ran into the street after them, terrified that they had gone into town. Even more terrified that they had wandered into the jungle."

She stops, and I watch pain take over her body. She rocks Elodie, and tells me that half a mile down the road, she finally found their shoes. Collapsing into tears of desperation, a little African boy came to her and pointed down the road. No lines of communication between them, she saw hope in his eyes. He ran down the road and came back with my two cousins.

Telling me this story on my last day before I went back to work, Grandma feels gratitude, all over again. She said she ran home, grabbed the little money she had, and took it to the boy. Thirty years after the day she lost her grandchildren to the jungles of Africa, she is still begging her God to bless the little boy who returned them.

My Grandmother, Elodie's Bibi-Bozorg, is the type of woman that loves any child with her entire being. When they hurt, she feels the sadness in every part of her own body. And in happiness, her heart sings to the rhythm of their laughter.

When I got back home, Elodie was calm. We watered the flowers, walked through the garden, and both soaked in the Spring air. Every May, the air in Oklahoma turns thick. And before the wave of heat washes over us and Summer comes, there are a few weeks of absolute bliss.

I spend every evening in these sweet weeks, outside.

The trees bend and warp as our evening thunderstorms and tornadoes roll through the Midwest. There are not many things I love more than the way that feels on my skin. So much that I immediately stripped Elodie down on my last evening, before I went back to work. For the first time, she will feel our late Spring roll through into the heat of Summer - she'll learn that this feels like home.

And instead of finishing my list of things to do before work in the morning (I'm learning To-Don't) we spend the rest of the evening out there. Swinging on the patio, where she fell asleep to that sweet breeze, and felt the damp night rolling through on her naked skin.

And I thought about tomorrow.And if going back to work was right for us. And in that very second, I remembered our house on Berry Street.

My teachers.

The ones that would teach Elodie, while I work part time to support my family. How could I ever be so stressed about a decision that suddenly seemed so right?

And I realized not only will she be just fine, but she will be even better for it. There are things that as a Mother, only I can give her. But it truly does take a village to raise a child, and I can't take that experience away from her.

She will be in the arms of a beautiful woman with a free spirit and dirt under her fingernails. One who had her picture taken by her best friend, next to the Caspian Sea.

In the arms of a teacher who taught lessons about the reality of life. And one who would run into the streets of the jungle, crying out for babies so precious they could have been her own.

.....

Thursday I went back to work, and the world didn't end. I felt amazing, put on makeup and a cute outfit, and caught up with clients so dear to me they've become friends almost a decade in the making. I walked to lunch, turned my radio up really loud in the car...and I felt like me, again.

And that day when I came home, Elodie was still waiting for me. On the porch we swung, and it's like we never missed a beat.

When the weekend came, we celebrated our new life. We had friends over and drank beers & wine on the patio, watched the Oklahoma City Thunder in the playoffs, and spent time with family. We went to the first Summer Breeze concert series in the park, and we danced and felt Oklahoma Springtime rolling over our naked skin.

i'm so loving these posts of yours as you've eased into motherhood! they make me excited and breathless for when my little boy arrives in early September!

i find myself going back to your blod again and again, using it as a reminder of the type of mother i want to be, the type of person i want to be ... soaking in the precious moments and remembering that life is indeed a gift.

Written beautifully... you have a way with words Aura. I still haven't left my baby and he is almost one! It's only because I would only trust him with family and our family is all over since we are military and stationed in Germany at the moment. I am hoping we get stationed near home soon so that my village can help teach my little boy. Love, love, love your writing. Always,Sarah

Aura--I am so so happy that you have found peace in your decision and I agree 100% with you. I cannot imagine my grandparents not having a large influence in raising me and Elodie will grow up to remember those moments as well. I have to admit though-I did cry a little reading this. It is beautifully documented and Elodie is one lucky baby to have such wonderful reflective parents.

Simply amazing that you have your family village still. That's a very hard thing to have in our country these days. And you're right, she'll come through just fine as you did with the care and compassion of those beautiful hands. I really loved reading your storytelling in this piece. So rich.

a beautiful post! when my husband and i start having children, we won't be around our families and the thought is so scary to me! but i will definitely have pictures and stories to share...and of course there will always be visits home and hopefully from home! the thing that touched me most about this post was the experiences of the summer breeze concert and the oklahoma spring air...it's so different here in illinois and i really miss home!

Aura, you are so wise for your years.. I can imagine the angst u had at deciding to go back to work.. It is hard... Thank the stars that it does take a village... You are lucky to have the support of a few generations.. and that is what is important... Babies can sense uneasiness as well as love.. Your Elodie definitely feels the calm of your grandma... She will learn what u have learned from your grandparents... wow, I am envious of your daughter... ((HUGS))

I am crying, laughing, nodding, rejoicing...all from one post. You are amazing to have captured ALL these emotions and to put them all in one post...

I could go on and on but this just speaks to me and thank you for saying it "Every woman chooses what is best for her family, and that is a personal choice that no one is allowed to judge. I have never felt guilt over what I have decided to do for her, and us. "-Amen sista. As a working mom, I know, I understand.

I didnt go back to work until my daughter was 3, long after the sleepless nursing-all-night nights were done, and that was the path for us.

And I think that babies are soooo extremely intuitive. It wasn't just happenstance about her mood leading up to the few days before you went back to work. I am sure she just sensed something.

The wonderful (familial) village you have as a support network is just...amazing.

I too went back to work part time after the birth of my little girl. My husband, myself and our baby lived with my parents and older sister. It was a large house well equipped to hold us. I left my baby for months on end in the arms of my mother. She held her first grandbaby as if she was the most priceless thing in the world.One year later Mama died and I quit. My village broke apart as well as my heart.but I know that my mother was happier that last year than any other year of her life surrounded by her family and the little baby that held her heart.

My husband's family is from Southern India. Their culture is similar in that grandparents often live with their children helping to raise grandchildren. My husband's parents have yet to retire. We also don't have children yet. I hope that when they do retire they will come and live with or close to us! Having a village of family members is such a lovely gift.

Okay. I just read this one my way home (at all the lights of course) and am in awe over how you can tell a story. I loved hearing about your family life and growing up with your grandparents as such a big part of it. My grandparents never lived with us, but were (and my grandmother still is) a very big part of my childhood as well.

I believe in the saying, it takes a village..., as well. I am lucky, like you, that even though I am working to support my family, my mom is the one with my kids when I am not. Honestly, this was probably the best post I've ever read. Thank you for sharing!

Aura, I found your blog last week via HEAB and told her I thought we might be neighbors after I saw your Groovefest mention. I am sure that somehow our paths have crossed after reading today (Life in a small town). My family and I were at the concert last night but didn't make it past the playground (we have 3 kids and came late) and we live so close to Berry it's not even funny. Our place backs up to Imhoff Creek and we have chickens too (but no rooster). You have a beautiful family and I am excited to see your shop. You are the 3rd blogger from here that I've discovered this Spring! HEAB wanted me to let you know she is a big fan!

This is so beautiful. Your story telling is like life on the page. I just get so lost in it :). And this is very prevalent right now for me. I am soon to be looking for a part time job, with my daughter about to turn two. And although she is not quite as young as Elodie, it's still a struggle to think of leaving my little girl, who I have been with practically every minute since she was born.

But it's time. I need this. She needs this. Your post has reassured me, that it shouldn't be a guilty thing to leave her with family that will take very good care of her and love her and teach her things that she will come to remember all her life.

Thank you Aura.

I hope that you, Michael and Elodie all have a happy peaceful week, and blessings to you and your family.

thank you for sharing such sweet personal memories of your childhood! I lost both my father and mother two years ago, my grandmother right before last Christmas, I miss them all terribly, your words gave me comfort, made me smile. I especially love the wrinkles in your grandpa's feet. So happy for you Elodie slept <3

I love this post so much, makes me reflect on how grateful I am for my village and family too. I follow your blog and usually don't comment. But there was so much in this post that resonated with me, that I felt like I was reading my own life... my family is persian too, my father-in-law still can't eat dinner without his pieces of bread, and we even lived in a remote part of Nigeria when I was a baby.

Thanks for sharing, reading this has been my favorite part of the day :)

I relate to your strong family ties so much. I come from a very large, Cajun family and we are all so wrapped into each other and our roots and culture, it is hard to tell where one of us ends and the other begins. It is one of the greatest gifts we can give our children, to raise them in the arms of a tribe. I just love reading your posts so much!

I have never commented prior, but just wanted you to know each of your posts touch me in a different way whether it be tears, an overabundance of happiness or an astonishing rush of inspiration. There is beauty in absolutely everything you write and photograph. Thank you for sharing!

This is my favourite post of yours, ever. So beautifully written and a sentiment that really resonates with me. Tis all about the village. Sounds like Elodie is surrounded by a group of wonderful souls- lucky her, and you. Glad your new chapter started off well x

There is SO much peace in making good decisions for your little family. And I love that you had a great first day back at work and that Baby E will be able to spend so much time with those who love her. You are a great mother, Aura <3

I know how you feel. My firstborn had colic and it really is the world feeling...that feeling of helplessness. I'm due in a couple of days now, so let's hope my newborn is a little calmer than my last. Good luck to you!

There is nothing like a story that you can live as you read it. And nothing like a storyteller who makes you feel it as you read it. Such an amazing gift you have. Gifts I should say.... Elodie is one of the most beautiful babies I have ever seen!

I too am blessed with a wonderful village. My son has learned so much from all the wonderful people around him. He surprised me when he knew how to tell a knock knock joke at 2 1/2. I wondered who taught him that.

I work full time and I am grateful that I can go to work with peace of mind because of my village.

Absoilutely beautiful! Thank you so much for this stories. You are so blkessed to have your granparents and parents so close...I would give everything to see my granparents with our kids one day... Elodie is so precious!

This was such an incredible story, an amazing piece of writing - thankyou for sharing it :)

I moved back to my hometown because I have such a large, wonderful community of friends and family here. I often fantasize about moving to the West Coast for the weather, lifestyle, and jobs out there, but in my heart I know that that community is more important than anything else to me and I am so lucky to have them.

aura, i almost never comment but i'm a regular reader. i have a daughter, who is almost five now. no one tells you what it is like to be a working mother. so many women do it that it ignorantly seemed easy. it isn't. i work from home "full time" (and my hubbie most of the time) and i love our laid back life. it's still a juggling act. we have such awesome family near us and the village was essential. some advice to you as you start to establish a new routine and find a new balance in the ever-changing and developing life of having children: let go. there are days when it is easy to do that and days when it will be really hard - given whatever the circumstance. also, some how, it helped me to tell myself that babies are resilient. they can handle change, skips in the schedule and people other than mom. they will get their needs met and the adult who is caring for them will find their own groove and balance w/ elodie. that is really precious to watch those bonds grow from time when mom is not around.

best to you in going back to work. it is noble. the proverbs 31 woman worked - from sun up to sun down! now, i don't need to do all that ;) hehe

Aura, you are such a gifted writer. I always look forward to reading your posts and looking at your pictures. This little glimpse into your childhood was magical. Elodie is such a blessed individual to have such a wonderful village to raise her! xo

You have a way with words that I only wish I had. This was one of your most beautiful posts yet and I read it multiple times. You are so right, Elodie will benefit infinitely from spending time with her grandmother during the day. It sounds like you have a wonderful "village" to fall back on. I am so happy for you that you have found peace in your decision and are enjoying the time back at work. Best wishes going forward. Elodie is absolutely stunning! I love that you have not lost sight of who you are and your daily life hasn't come to a screeching hault just because you have had a child. I hope someday, I can do the same.

This is so beautiful. Although I'm still growing, I really do believe that it's all kinds of people who have shaped me to become who I am today--it truly does take a village! And I like to think that some of my character comes from reading blogs like this. Blogs that show me that life is a gift, family is important, and the simple things are often the best. You're an inspiration, and Elodie is lucky to have such a wise mother.

You are gorgeous.Your words are gorgeous.Most of all you baby is gorgeous.I am your new biggest fan.I work too.I have 3 beautiful women who watch my kids during the 4 days that I work.I miss my kids but I have seen these 3 "teachers" do wonderful things for my kids that I couldn't have done and I am so grateful for my little village that will help me raise my 2 sweet girls to be amazing women.

This is my first time visiting your space, and I am so touched by the way you tell a story. The story of your family is just stunningly beautiful and so poetic and real. I have a feeling I will be visiting you on a regular basis :) Congratulations on your Elodie--I love that name, and she really looked like a little Elodie!

Before I was a mom, I was a nanny and I feel honored to have been part of that village for all the kiddos I've worked with over the years. Now that I have my own baby, it's even more amazing to me how much trust and respect those parents placed in me to care for their children. It's a pretty awesome thing.

At the same time, I'm having feelings I never anticipated about my own son. I always intended to be a SAHM, and I will be, but I'm having trouble leaving him for even short periods of time. It's not that I don't think he'll be ok without me, but that I miss him *so much* when I'm not with him. He's only 12 weeks old, so perhaps this will subside a bit in time. Still, this is hardly how I expected to feel after having been the caretaker and not the mom for so long!

This was such a beautiful post about family... i read it a couple days ago and then last night came home to the news of the tornadoes.. my heart goes out to you and your family and friends. I hope everyone's ok.xo

Such a sweet post. I love that you have so many old pictures, I'm almost jealous. Elodie comes from a long line of gorgeous women. Thought of your family when I saw the bad weather come through the Midwest, praying that you all are okay!

This was one of your most beautiful posts. One of the things I am most intensely grateful for as a parent is to have a part of my "village" here for my son. I grew up without extended family nearby. There is something so magical and wonderful about seeing my baby happy and contented in his grandmother's lap, and watching his grandfather melt into a puddle around him. I only wish his great-grandparents were still alive to play with him..... but I count my blessings, I do.

I'm so glad your transition to work is going so well! And I would love to hear more about your backyard farming!!

I agree about it "taking a village". I wish we could go back to the days when the community helped support the growth and education of its children instead of allowing everyone to fend for themselves and scoffing when they fail. I truly makes a difference in the quality of a child's life.

Just found your blog by chance and so happy I did. Your images, your stories...so inspiring. I have found a home of sorts in your words and photos. What a beautiful family and beautiful expression of your life.

I love love loved your post! Today was the first time I ever read your blog (thanks to dearbaby) and I'm in love!!! I've been reading blogs for a long time now and have a few that I follow daily (including dearbaby) but nothing I have read seemed so familiar and dear to my heart! You see I'm Armenian, born and raised there and even had the luck to visit Iran in my teens. Reading your post I almost wanted to shout "She knows exactly what's in my heart!!" I just had a baby boy too, he's five months now! And my whole family is away in Armenia while me and my husband are trying to raise our baby completely alone! It takes a village...but sometimes a couple will do!I'm officially hooked, can't go a day without your blog now! Love, Veronika

my ex husband took my son from me when we split up. he won full custody when my son was a baby. i was seeing him every other weekend now every saturday. i thought seeing him every week would be good but he is almost 8 and it's like we aren't close anymore. i don't know what happened. but he will say things to me like he didn't want to come that day and stuff. it breaks my heart. i don't know if his dad is telling him things or what. but i only see him a few hours on saturdays.. sometimes i get to go to his games. he lives an hour and a half away. any tips for something like this? his dad has a lot of money had had a great lawyer when he won and i didnt have anything. my son used to cry when he was younger and had to leave but now he don't mind. and he always has smart things to say to me. it's like i am not good enough or have enough. what do i do??

Curious as to what you and your husband have planned as far as moving out of state, now that Ms Elodie is here? I'm sure it will be a gut-wrenching decision either way. Thanks for sharing your beautiful life with the world. - Miss J

The first word that comes to mind when I look at your blog, which I discovered today, is SWEET. Your childhood and grandparents and old pictures and absolutely darling daughter. All of it is sweet. Blessed to have discovered you today!

I've just discovered your blog several days ago on Dear Baby. I'm willing to admit that I've read it all since then. You inspire me in more ways than I can describe. I hope you're loving life with your sweet family.

A friend told me she follows this amazing blog. Curious, I decided to come and see what she was raving about. Reading through your post brought me to tears, as I also have children and it has taken a village to raise them. I am starting law school in OKC this fall and I am currently pregnant with my third child. I have questioned repeatedly if I am doing the right thing, but then I look around, and I know that the support system I've had for my other two children, will once again be there for this one. Your blog amazed me. I'm glad my friend told me about it. BTW, your pictures are stunning.